


The Purloined Umbrella

by MonkeyBard



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Fluff, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 08:16:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonkeyBard/pseuds/MonkeyBard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a valuable item goes missing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Purloined Umbrella

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ Watson's Woes July Writing Prompts 2013  
> 25 July - Prompt: So very Gorey: Surely an artist that would tickle the modern Holmes' funnybone, and possibly would have gotten a laugh (or a long, cold stare) from the ACD original. Take your inspiration from one of the works of [Edward Gorey](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_Gorey), from the man, from a random title of one of his works, or whatever else tickles your fancy.  
> A/N: I could have sworn there was an Edward Gorey book by this title, but I appear to have confused it with [_The Sopping Thursday_](http://www.goreystore.com/shop/books/edward-gorey-sopping-thursday-book). So, here's my Holmesian take on the tale. I only wish I was capable of illustrating it in properly Gorey fashion.

Mycroft Holmes did not enjoy calling upon his younger sibling for assistance. He did, however, enjoy occasionally inconveniencing him, although he would never admit it should anyone enquire.  
  
Sherlock Holmes did not enjoy interacting with his elder brother. He did, however, enjoy any opportunity to show him up, and he might admit as much should the right person ask the right question in the right way at the right time.  
  
At a meeting on a gray London morning in Mycroft's office, Mycroft leapt straight to the point. (The only sort of leaping to which he was inclined.) "Grand-mère's umbrella has gone missing."  
  
Sherlock nodded wisely. It had not gone missing from this office, nor from Mycroft's home, nor from one of his ubiquitous shiny black automobiles. That much was obvious.  
  
"I need not remind you how important this is," Mycroft reminded him.  
  
Sherlock returned to Baker Street where he found John Watson seated on the sofa and casually spinning an open umbrella before him.  
  
"Mycroft is rarely so careless, particularly in public," said Sherlock. "Otherwise you wouldn't have managed it."  
  
"You underestimate my sneakiness," replied John.  
  
"Perhaps." Sherlock went to the kitchen where he'd left his latest experiment fermenting.  
  
"How long do you plan to keep it?"  
  
"Until he's learned his lesson. When I feel he has, we'll return Grand-mère's brolly."


End file.
